


Delusions Rarely Make a Great King

by Nightingalewithatale



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Dark, Dead bodies are mistreated, F/M, I'm not sure if this is a happy ending, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-05 00:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13375848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightingalewithatale/pseuds/Nightingalewithatale
Summary: When Merlin is taken from him, Arthur would do anything to get him back, even if it meant losing track of reality.





	Delusions Rarely Make a Great King

Arthur couldn't help smiling as Merlin placed their fingers together, his servant’s mop of hair resting on his chest as they lounged on the prince’s bed. Gazing into his eyes as the other man sat up, Arthur touched their foreheads together. “I love you, Merlin.” 

“I love you, too.” Merlin pressed a warm hand to the prince’s chest. “I have to get ready for our journey tomorrow. Let me up.” The golden haired man tightened his grip, teasing his friend. “I prefer where you are, actually.” 

The servant shook him off with a smile. “If I don't pack my herbs tonight, we’ll get a late start tomorrow.” Pressing a kiss to Arthur’s lips, he continued in a hushed voice. “I promise, when we return, I'll spend every night with you for a week.”

Arthur hummed, his fingers locked behind his head. “Make it two weeks and you have a deal.” The servant laughed as they kissed once more, but pulled away as Arthur made to draw them closer together. “Done. Goodnight, Arthur.” The dark haired man dashed out of the room, smirking. 

If he had known how their journey would end, the prince never would have let his servant leave the safety his chambers.  
***  
They had made it to the heart of the forest when an arrow whizzed between their heads. Merlin, Arthur, and his knights hastily dismounted their horses. Bandits swarmed them - there must have been at least twenty, and more hid in the bushes. 

The knights fought without prompting or formation. As Arthur extracted his sword from his enemy’s belly, he glanced around for Merlin. Where was - His eyes fell on a body, lying next to a tree. “Merlin!” He cried, rushing over to him. How did he get so far away?

His servant’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Fight, you idiot!” He called, pointing behind the prince, who raised his sword, whirling around, just in time to block the blow. Arthur shoved the man away, slicing his side. Backing up to Merlin, he grabbed him by the collar, pushing him away from the swinging blades and dying men. “Run.” He'd be safe in the woods. 

The servant twisted out of his grasp. “Are you insane? I'm staying here.” A bandit ran at them. Arthur made to step in front of Merlin, and push him behind himself, but the dark haired man rolled his eyes, stretching out his hand, and muttered a phrase. The bandit fell to the ground as a tree limb struck him in the head. 

Arthur held up one finger before returning to the fray. “Not one word, Merlin.” 

With the last bandit fallen, Arthur congratulated his men. They had not one casualty, which was remarkable considering they had Merlin, who occasionally tumbled over a log after a battle was won and bloodied his nose or some other appendage. 

A rustling of a bush set them on alert, except for Merlin who was calming the horses, petting their muzzles. 

It was as if time slowed as the last bandit rose up from the foliage and drew back his bow string, not aiming for Arthur, but for his servant, who had his back to his would be assailant while facing his friends. The prince reached out to grab Merlin, to pull him, push him, to do something to get him out of the arrow’s path. “Merlin!” He shouted. He had to get there.

Kill his men, kill friends, but don't take Merlin, he prayed, don't take him. 

Their eyes connected. Pale blue eyes wide as saucers, mouth forming words to ask him why he was running at him and shouting at the top of his lungs - A soft gasp resounded from Merlin’s pink lips as a single arrow embedded itself in his back. The horses skittered away, running back in the direction of Camelot, but stopped as the knights ran to collect them. 

Arthur grabbed him, supporting him as he sank to his knees, cradling him to his chest. He held the man’s cheek. “It'll be alright, Merlin. Don't worry.” He murmured, tears welling in his eyes. “We’ll get you back to Camelot. You'll be good as new.” 

Merlin, his sweet Merlin, who never wanted him to worry about him, shook his head, jerkily. “Arthur...It's too far.” He coughed, his body rattling with the movement, the color draining from his face. He raised his hand to cup the prince’s face with a small smile. “I love you, Arthur Pendragon.”  


“No, No,” The prince renounced, his voice shaking. That sounded too much like a goodbye. He tightened his grip, pressing him to his chest. “We’re going back to Camelot. We - We have plans, remember? You said you stay with me for two weeks, remember? You promised.” Arthur’s lip quivered as tears trickled down his face. He held Merlin’s wrist, quickly moving his hand to cover the cooling fingers. 

“Arthur, you'll be a great king one day.” Merlin whispered, his smile euphoric. The prince shook his head. “Don't say that, not like you're - " He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence. He brushed Merlin’s tears away, drying his eyes with his selves. “Keep breathing, Merlin.” Arthur commanded, as he lifted him up, mindful of his wound. With his fading strength, the servant tugged at the prince’s clothes. Weakly, he begged. 

“Don't do this to yourself, Arthur.” 

He crumbled to his knees, tears pouring from his eyes. “Merlin, I can't live without you.” 

The other man patted his face, bringing it close to his own. “You will.” 

“I'll follow you to the grave.” 

Merlin searched his face, becoming fearful when he saw his truthfulness. He pressed his hand to his prince’s chest. “Don't be a prat.” He gave a half smile at his own joke. Arthur had to give a laugh through his tears. It relieved his spirit to see Merlin’s eyes brighten at the sound. “Live your life, Arthur.” Merlin wanted to say more, to tell him to meet a nice Lady and have children, to rule his kingdom so that magic would be welcomed, but he nearly ran out of breath. He supposed his magic was running out on him. He felt like a shell as it seeped out of his fingertips. “Kiss me?” The servant asked, his breath coming in short rasps. Arthur pressed their lips together, their tears mingling. He pulled back, slightly, slowly. “I love you, Merlin.” 

The dark haired man stared at him from lidded eyes. “Merlin?” Arthur’s voice broke. He brought their foreheads together hoping that he would breath in again so they could go home. Go home and be together. He wailed his friend’s name as he petted the man’s face with shaking hands, unaware that his knights had caught Merlin’s murderer. 

After lying him gently on the forest floor, he stood to his full height before the quivering criminal. He didn't allow the man to speak before drawing his sword and bringing it down across his body. His eyes blazed as he sheathed his sword and took Merlin back up. 

He didn't deserve to be left on the ground with those disgusting dead bodies.  
***  
“Merlin, get some rest.” Arthur carefully tucked his servant under the large comforter of his bed. He'd taken ill with their recent trip. He pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, frowning, letting his hand rest on his hair, petting. “You're rather cold, aren't you? You'll warm up in no time.” He smiled at Merlin’s pout. “I'll be back after the meeting with my father. I'll bring us back some lunch.” He gave another kiss before he left, locking his chamber door behind him. He knew if Merlin got the chance, he would run off to the tavern or to see Gwen. He couldn't have that, not when he needed rest.  
***  
“Gaius, would you have a look at Merlin? He's been very ill lately.”

The old physician cringed at Arthur’s casual tone as they stood in front of the entrance to the younger man’s chambers. “Sire, perhaps, you should stay out here while I examine him?” The prince looked confused. “Why should I? You know how nervous he gets with these things.” Gaius sighed, opening the door, Arthur on his heels. Uther had told him to let Arthur continue acting as if Merlin were alive. He'd snap out of it soon enough.  
“Merlin,” The prince singsonged. “Wake up. Gaius is going to check you over to make sure you're alright.” 

The physician rolled his lips together, swallowing. Merlin looked as if he were only sleeping.  
***  
Gaius had to stop this. He needed to give Merlin a proper ceremony. With a mournful expression, he entered the meeting room. Only Arthur and his father were there, sifting through papers and documents. 

He bowed. “Sire,” He glanced at Uther then back to the prince. “I have bad news.”

Arthur sprang from his chair. He grasped the old man’s shoulder. “What is it? Is Merlin alright?”

Gaius shook his head. “I went to check in him, you see and...I fear he has passed on.” Arthur swallowed. “No.” He ran out of the room and in the direction of his chambers. 

Uther stood slowly. “You disobeyed me.”

He bowed again. “Both Merlin and Arthur are like sons to me. I couldn't bare to see them suffer any longer.” 

The king nodded once after a tense pause.

They followed the prince to his chambers in silence. They had entered as Arthur brought his hand across Merlin’s face. Gaius moved to pull him off of his apprentice’s body. “How dare -" The physician demanded, cut off as Uther held him back. 

Arthur pointed in Merlin’s lifeless face. “It's not funny. Don't you dare do that again!” He scolded as his servant continued laughing. “I'm sorry, Arthur. I've just been so bored.” 

“Serves you right.” The prince huffed, fixing the rumpled blankets and caved in pillows. 

Uther paid his physician triple his usual amount from then on, if not for his silence then for emotional distress.  
***  
“Arthur, can't I go outside? Just for a bit?” They'd been having this conversation for weeks now.

Merlin knelt on the bed, watching the prince as he dressed for the day. “No. You need to rest. Don't you want to get better?” Arthur nudged him back under the covers. 

His servant sighed. “Yes, but -"

“But nothing. You'll stay here and rest.” He almost relented at Merlin’s downcast face. “How about I read you another story? Would you like that?” His friend nodded, excitedly. 

Arthur laughed. “Then a story you shall have.” He loved making Merlin smile.  
***  
“Gaius, I didn't know you were in here.” Arthur stated, puzzled, as he removed his sword and its sheath from his belt. Training had been rather taxing today and he had hoped to curl up with Merlin in front of a fire. 

The physician looked up at Arthur from where he was bent over his apprentice’s chest. Merlin made faces at the prince, attempting to gain his attention and make him laugh. With a grin, the blond turned back to Gaius. “How is he?” 

“Worsening.” Arthur’s chest tightened. He suddenly noticed that his servant had become much more lanky than before. He could almost make out a bone or two. How could that be? He ate everything he brought to him, although he did throw it back up most of the time.

“Sire,” Gaius asked him quietly. “You don't want him to suffer, do you?”

The prince glanced down at Merlin’s trusting, confused face. “This isn't a conversion we should be having in present company.” He turned to strip himself of his armor. Screwing his eyes shut, he paused, breathing in deeply.. He opened his eyes, removing his outer armor. 

“Arthur.” Gaius pleaded, hobbling over to him. “Do you want him to suffer?”

The prince spun on the old man, advancing. “No, of course not!” He shouted, lowering his voice immediately as not to let Merlin know what they were discussing. “I would never want him to suffer.”

“Then let him go.”

Merlin looked hurt as Gaius left, without saying goodbye.  
***  
He should never have left Merlin alone for so long, especially without a caretaker. He burst into his room. “Merlin?” He called, looking around. 

“Merlin, this isn't a game. Where are you?” He barely missed Merlin’s hand as he brought down quick footsteps upon the floor. 

He knelt down. “Why are you asleep on the floor, love?” He shook his shoulder.

Pulling his hand back as if he were burned, he stared at Merlin’s bare back, an ugly wound spread its hand across his skin. “Merlin?” He asked, hauling him to his chest. “Merlin, speak to me.” He brushed his face with his knuckles. “Oh.” He smiled. “Oh, I see. It's a joke.” He gave a weak laugh. “Very funny. Wake up now.” He jostled him in an attempt to rouse him. “Dinner will be up soon. It's your favorite. Stew, remember? I said I'd have Cook make it for you.”

He blinked away his tears. “Merlin, please. This isn't funny anymore.” His friend felt cold as snow, his skin the texture of papyrus. “Merlin, tell me who did this to you.”

Silence met his pleas. 

“It's alright.” Shushing him, he pressed the other man to his chest, peering down at the wound. Merlin was locked in here all day. No one could have harmed him unless-unless they used magic to cause his sudden illness and his wound. Pressing a kiss to Merlin’s icy lips, Arthur swore. “They won't hurt you, or anyone, again. I'll make sure of it.”  
***  
As soon as he put Merlin’s body to rest, Arthur renewed interest in the crusades.He burned every magic user he could find, with or without trial. His Merlin had been too good natured to see its deadliness. He clenched his fists. He should have burned all of Merlin’s spell books and enchanted trinkets. Maybe then, he'd still be alive. 

He took a breath, leaning back in his desk chair. 

“I take it back. You'll be a terrible king.” 

Arthur toyed with his quil. “What do you know of kingship?”

The figment crossed his arms. “Enough.” 

The prince met his eyes, faltering in his resolve. “Oh, God, you're beautiful.” He admired the apparition with love. 

“Do my words go through one ear and out the other?”

“Is that what it takes to keep you with me?”

Merlin clenched his jaw. “Do you realize that if I were alive, you'd have to burn me on a pyre?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, murmuring into his wine. “No, I wouldn't.”

The figment stalked towards him. “Alright. Maybe not the pyre. Would being whipped do? Or thrown in the dungeon? Or, maybe, a good stoning? I'm sure a beheading would accomplish the same thing.” 

Arthur stood, knocking his chair backwards. “Enough,” He seethed. “You'll not speak of yourself in those terms!”

“Why not? It’s what you define me as. Someone who's not worth life!” 

The prince placed his fists on the desk. “Not you. It's those vermin who took you from me. They stole you away!” Arthur growled. “If you're only here to criticize me, for protecting your honor, then leave.” 

“Why would I care about honor? I'm dead.” 

Merlin vanished. “Wait.” Arthur pleaded as he stood. He didn't think he would listen to his demand. He never obeyed! “Wait, Merlin, come back. Love, I'm sorry.” His voice cracked, as he stumbled to the place where the ghost once stood. He twirled around, searching for a clue that Merlin might still be present, hiding in the shadows as a way of punishing him for his terseness. “I'm sorry.” He repeated upon realizing he was alone in the room once more.  
***  
“Mother, why does Father sleep in the catacombs?” Gwen knelt down to her son, the heir to the Pendragon Throne.“He misses his friend.” The queen answered simply and stood again, her bouquet clutched in her hand while her other held her son’s own small, chubby one. 

“Oh. Was he nice?”

She smile, tiredly. “Yes.”

“Would he have liked me?” 

Her lip quivered. “He would have loved you.” 

They laid the flowers on the tomb, as they did every Sunday. Arthur sat to the side, bowing his head over his clasped knuckles. The queen needed to put their son to bed before the King began speaking as if Merlin were still alive, standing at his side even.  
***  
As the little prince listened to the fading footsteps of his father, going farther and farther from his chambers, he whispered, loudly, staring at his mother for her reaction. “It's ok. You can come out.” 

The boy frowned as his mother gave a kind smile. “Merlin, you can come out! Mommy won't hurt you.” The queen covered her mouth in shock, shushing him. “Where did you hear that name?” 

“Merlin told me. It's his name. He said him and Daddy were friends, and now he's going to protect me, right, Merlin?” Silence filled the room.  
“Merlin?” 

“Darling,” The queen pressed a kiss to her son’s curls. “Don't tell your father...and listen to Merlin. He is a clever man.” She bid her son goodnight. As an after thought, she swallowed, turning to face the room, eyes almost overflowing with tears. “Goodnight, Merlin.” 

I hope to God that you don’t hate Arthur for what he’s become, she stated to herself, hoping Merlin could hear her. 

He still loves you, even after all this time.


End file.
